


A light, and it never goes out

by orphan_account



Series: good times for a change [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-30
Updated: 2010-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of <b>No Hope, No Harm</b>, Kris can't get hold of Adam. He's not going to take this lying down, so to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A light, and it never goes out

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to No Hope, No Harm. As before, it's changed up a little from the version on my LJ. I mean, it's so different, you guys totally need to read it again, heh heh.

Kris was in the hotel room again.

He was back on that bed, Adam pressing down on him, inside him, weighing him down. And then he was standing in the middle of a room, a low table next to him. He heard a door slam, and _knew_ that was Adam, leaving. He tried to call him, but his voice gave out and he only managed a whisper. So he ran, out the door, down the never-ending corridor. He could see Adam up ahead, striding away from him. For some reason, Adam was wearing a long flowing coat which billowed out behind him, making the whole scene even more dramatic and impossible. He tried to run faster and catch up, but never managed, even as the corridors started fading away, and now he was chasing Adam through the labyrinthine backstage area of the Nokia theatre.

He burst through a nondescript door and found himself on stage. In front of a huge audience. And there were . . . four people sitting behind a long desk, which bore the sign, _American Idol_.

No, no, no, no, I've done all this already, no fucking way! Kris looked around him for Adam, but the lights were blinding him. He was holding a microphone in his hand, and Ryan Seacrest was standing next to him. Simon was in full flow.

" . . . well, Kris, as disappointing performances go, that was certainly a masterclass. So completely boring, I can't believe Adam actually wants you in his bed enough to resort to blackmail. Not when he could have any number of men, more experienced and interesting than you. Ryan, here, for example, would give his left arm to have Adam bugger him senseless, isn't that right-"

Kris woke up with a shout. He gasped for air, and fought his way free of blankets which seemed to be trying to suffocate him. Not the fucking Idol dream again, fuck! The dreams always started in the same way, with him trying to catch up with a disappearing Adam, and then ending up somewhere else. Though Adam wasn't usually dressed like Neo. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to that Matrix rewatch with the band yesterday.

Also, Simon Cowell rating him on his sexual performance, that was _really_ new. But he'd been having these dreams for a while, and they didn't need much interpretation. He hadn't been able to contact Adam since that night, some weeks ago. They had actually managed to put on a concert together without ever being on stage at the same time, and any duets or group performances had been vetoed by Allison's management, of all people. He suspected Adam of putting in a 'good word' of how it was better for Alli to have exposure as a solo performer, and how it wouldn't be fair, and so on.

Then, after the concert, Kris had completely lost touch. And he had _really_ tried to talk to Adam. No matter how many times he asked his publicist to get him Adam's number, there was always some problem. She never forgot anything else, crappy photoshoots, awkward interviews, Kris thought, resentfully. How come she always 'forgot' to find him Adam's number?

Even if they were booked for the same events, somehow, Adam was always leaving when Kris was about to arrive, or vice versa. And Kris was busy himself, of course. He was promoting an album and two singles, and there was always some event he had to sing at, some radio show he had to be at, and soon he would leave on tour. He had to talk to Adam before his tour started, otherwise they would really lose touch, for good. Sometimes his dreams featured an Idol function they both had to attend, and in them Adam looked at him and didn't recognise him. He woke up from those dreams with his pillow wet and tears trickling out of the corners of his eyes.

He'd never even had the chance to tell Adam the truth about his marriage; not that Adam gave a shit, apparently. But Kris wanted to talk to him, wanted to explain the whole Idol . . . _thing_. And how his marriage came into it. Katy was the most intelligent woman he had ever met. She was the one who had pointed out to him, that what won Idol was a back-story, rather than a unique talent. Oh, the talent helped, but Idol audiences and producers were suckers for the story, which was why Danny Gokey had been such a contender.

And what Kris needed was an edge, something unique. The southern, Christian, missionary stuff was all good, but being a happily married man was truly unique for an Idol winner. And they did love each other, after a fashion, had been high school sweethearts, and had gone on missions together: what could go wrong? No-one had expected Adam to explode onto the Idol stage, least of all Katy. Ok, so maybe the producers had, having watched auditions and then researched him thoroughly, but Katy had been furious. And so she had planned the whole 'bromance' story as an addition to their white-picket-fence backdrop. However, she hadn't realised she would meet someone else during the long months Kris was away, and even though he hadn't known about it, he'd sensed the growing distance between them. He'd also never expected to fall in love with Adam, though he wasn't sure when that had happened.

For a while, now, their marriage had been in name only. Once his management had learned that they planned to get divorced, they were reluctant at first, but Kris managed to get them to agree to it, as long as it went slowly, and discreetly. Too discreetly - Adam hadn't spent time with Kris for a good while before their night together, and so wouldn't have known that Kris was officially well on the way to being divorced. Kris wasn't even sure when he had realised that what he felt for Adam was more than friendship, though actually _enjoying_ something he was being coerced into was a sizeable hint.

The telephone call Adam had listened to was damning, yes, but was only proof to the fact that he was unable to tell his brother and soon to be ex-wife to shut up. He had never found it easy to talk about his feelings, and hadn't even wanted to admit to himself that what had started out as a ploy had slowly turned real.

And then Adam had spent a night fucking him through the mattress. For days after that night, he tried hard not to think about it, at all. He had spent, he had _wasted_ , those few days leading up to the concert avoiding Adam as much as possible, telling himself that they both needed a cooling down period, to put things in perspective. And then, once the concert was done, Kris was suddenly faced with the reality of not being able to meet Adam at all, now that he wanted to.

He had stored the flash-drive in his safe, but he hadn't wanted to destroy it, which would have been the easiest thing in the world. He had re-acquired all of Adam's songs, gradually, and without being able to explain his reasoning, even to himself. Then, one night, he had woken up at three am, having come explosively in his sleep. He'd thought he was having a heart attack at first – he couldn't breathe, and was shaking uncontrollably. He suddenly realized that his panic attack was caused by a simple fact; he'd been dreaming about Adam onstage, belting out Whole Lotta Love. In the middle of washing his face with ice-cold water, he was paralyzed by one thought. I love him, I fucking love him, and he never wants to see me again.

This had started a new phase in his obsession: watching and re-watching the video on the flash-drive, over and over and over again. The first time he looked through the contents, he hadn't even bothered to watch the video, but now he re-watched obsessively, trying to get some clue to Adam's feelings, even though he himself was the star of the video. Apparently, in between his first nap and Adam waking him up, _with his dick_ , Adam had gotten really bored. And horny.

The scene started with Kris on his side, hands cuffed together, fast asleep. Soon Adam came into shot, and turned him over on his face, making sure he could breathe. He saw Adam get a washcloth and use it to clean his ass, gently but thoroughly. Watching this made Kris blush hotly, and, eventually, get incredibly turned on.

Watching Adam manipulate his sleeping body, he could hardly believe that he had stayed asleep, but he had already been so tired from rehearsals that day. He paid attention to the screen again, because the next thing Adam did had horrified Kris at first, then made him harder than he'd ever been in his life. Adam bent over Kris's ass, and gently started licking his hole - at first just little licks, and then he really seemed to push his tongue in deep, because Kris saw his sleeping self move slightly and murmur something, causing Adam to shush him and stroke his back. Kris still blushed deeply when he watched Adam do _that_. He'd known about it, of course, but had never understood the attraction. After repeated viewings, Kris lost his sense of horror, and this was usually when he started rubbing his own erection. On the screen, Adam was fingering Kris now, but that risked waking him up, and apparently Adam had other plans.

On the screen, Adam turned and faced the camera head-on, and started slowly and luxuriously caressing his cock. He was fully erect, again, and was staring so intently into the camera that Kris irrationally felt that Adam could see him as he watched, weeks later. Then Adam gently turned Kris over again, and arranged his cuffed hands on his chest. Kris knew what was coming, and started speeding up the motion of his hand on his cock. Adam was making sure that Kris's ring finger was prominent, something which had stumped Kris, at first. Then Adam _really_ started jerking off, his hand moving fast and rough on his dick. Soon he came, and aimed, first at Kris's face, and then at his hands. Kris came at that moment, too, having timed his ejaculation after long practice. He paused the video to get his breathing under control - there wasn't much left, but he wanted to study that part. Surely there was some clue Adam had left him, which he hadn't noticed yet? Now he knew why Adam had wanted him to wear his wedding ring, and he wished he could have known to tell Adam that his marriage was over in everything but name by that point - but Kris had been too annoyed at being blackmailed, too afraid of the truth, maybe, to explain properly, and Adam had been too angry to listen.

When he pressed play, the video continued, with a cut in between, because when it resumed some time had passed. Adam had regained his erection, which just made Kris shake his head in disbelief. What the hell kind of industrial strength Viagra had he been on? He'd put Kris on his side again, and was busy lubing him up to wake him. And what an awakening that was. Kris could still remember fighting his way back to consciousness, and being jerked backwards and forwards, hooked like a fish on Adam's dick, deep in his ass. He remembered gasping awake, and Adam's litany of filth, which he could repeat, word for word, even now. At this point he usually regretted having come already, because watching his past self in Adam's arms just made him feel like crying. _This_ Adam couldn't get enough of fucking him, of painting him with his come, of delving deep inside him. But what if that had been enough for Adam? Maybe he'd fucked Kris out of his system, and was over him now. Great. Now he was really depressed. The video stopped before Adam had pulled Kris onto his lap - the last frame showed him bent over the cushion, half hanging off the bed, and Adam kneeling behind him, his hands grasping Kris's hips as he slowly pushed in. Adam smirked at the camera, and the video faded out.

He wiped his face, and got up. It was four a.m. Might as well have a shower, and some coffee. He wasn't going to get back to sleep now.

He woke up again on the couch. He'd been watching a repeat of a football game, and must have fallen asleep. But what had woken him up this time? His mobile was ringing incessantly, with that irritating beeping which he had programmed for his managers, and as soon as he answered, one of them started babbling.

"Kris, calm down! Everything will be ok. Nothing will change, it's probably just a mistake anyway! We're calling Fuller's people to see what the fuck is going on, if this is some Fox screw up they're gonna fucking pay- _no, I don't care if he's still asleep, fucking wake him, this is a disaster_ \- Kris? Kris, are you still there?"

Kris held the phone at arm's length and looked at it blearily. This was a first - his normally unflappable publicist calling him at - the digital clock said 6 am, which couldn't be right, could it? - to rant at him while having a conversation with someone else. The squawking from his phone had just said something about TMZ and Perez, and Kris suddenly knew. He _knew_. The whole Idol thing had come out, had to be. He grabbed the remote, and changed the channel to TMZ, and there it was:

IDOL SHOCKER - WINNER'S RESULT FALSIFIED!

His heartbeat sped up when he read those words, but then he calmed down again when the story continued. The headline was the usual dramatic stuff, but all they really had were a few photocopied papers - they didn't have any interviews with anyone of note, or any original documents. And nothing was said about a certain phone conversation between himself, Katy and Daniel. His heart stopped hammering so fast, and he could hear the rest over the blood rushing in his ears. On-screen, some paparazzi tried to stop Adam on the way home from some club, but he just smiled and said something about not believing everything you read, and walked away. Kris changed the channel, and came across the Adam segment again - Adam didn't look triumphant or remorseful or anything really. He just seemed tired and slightly sad underneath the heavy make-up. He looked thinner than Kris remembered.

The quacking from his phone was getting more frantic and panicky.

"Hey. Hey! Can you, just, stop talking, please?"

The noise from his phone stopped, to be replaced with a hopeful silence, which seemed to expect some kind of miraculous solution from Kris. Good luck with that, he thought, resentfully. Maybe if whoever planned this had covered their tracks better they wouldn't have had this problem.

"Look, do _we_ need to do anything about this? Is there a meeting we need to go to? I'm sure 19 will handle the whole thing?" They'd better, he thought. It's their mess.

"Let me call, and see."

The voice seemed calmer now. Suddenly it hit Kris. Adam would have to be at any kind of meeting, right? This could be his one chance. Adam had managed to wriggle out of things like that before . . . but not if Kris made it a condition. So, he was a celebrity now? Well, he was going to be an _asshole_ celebrity. They should count themselves lucky he didn't want his whole _entourage_ at the meeting, too. Not that he had an entourage. There was the band, but- get a grip, Kris. He cleared his throat.

"Here's the thing. Adam needs to be there, when I am." There was a sudden, ominous silence.

"Look, Kris. I know you have a . . . thing for Adam, but this is really not the time-", ok, thought Kris, time to let out my inner diva.

"You don't get it. Either Adam is there, at the same time I am, or I'm not coming. And I'm going to schedule interviews with TMZ and Perez and Access Hollywood and . . . and-"

" _Please_. Please, don't do that!"

Thank God he'd been interrupted, because he couldn't think of any more imaginary interviews to schedule.

"We'll make sure Adam is there."

"I don't see him, and I'm walking." Fuck, he sounded like a douchebag. No wonder people kept telling him he'd changed.

"He'll be there; I give you my _personal_ guarantee."

It seemed to work. There was a rare note of respect in the voice on the other end, like Kris had finally learnt how to play the game. Kris didn't care, and broke off the call. If he was finally going to see Adam again, he had some planning to do.

~

Adam stripped off all his club gear, stepped into the shower, and stayed under it, making the water as cold as he could stand it. Who the fuck had talked? He sure hadn't and he didn't think Kris would have, so who? The only logical answer was the person who'd sent him the sound file to begin with, who Adam was seriously starting to think was a misguided fan. What did they hope to accomplish, anyway? The 9th season of Idol was well under way, who the fuck cared who won the 8th and how they did it?

There was the issue of fairness, he supposed. Ok, he would grant the unknown do-gooder that. But life wasn't fair. He had learnt that a long time ago. He had been happy with what he got out of Idol, and really didn't want any more, even though, he had been a little disappointed. Going through the whole show, it was impossible not to yearn after those final moments, just a little . . . Seacrest calling his name, glittery confetti streaming down . . . well. Too late now. The whole business with Kris - oh, is that what we're calling it, the snide voice in his head muttered - was never about the Idol win. It had started out as teaching Kris a lesson, and ended up with Adam learning a more painful one. When you're in love with someone but have decided to walk away, you _walk away_. Or you'll never get over it, or him.

He stepped out of the shower, and started taking off his make-up properly. Having removed his eye-makeup and foundation, he studied his reflection critically. Yeah, those black circles aren't hiding, no matter how much shit you layer on. He looked tired, and sad, and should lay off the clubbing. His mobile rang as soon as he walked into the bedroom.

"Adam, there's a meeting at 19 today at five. You're gonna be there."

Lane sounded angry. Guess that was one who hadn't known, who he could strike off the list of people he was still pretty pissed off at.

"Do I have to? Is it even anything to do with me?"

Adam just felt tired enough to cry. He sometimes wished he'd never even gone to that audition.

"This is one meeting you really can't miss, ok." Her tone softened. "Try to get some sleep . . . please?" She sounded worried.

"Ok, ok, going to sleep now, _mom_." She giggled, "Idiot!", and hung up. He suddenly felt so exhausted he could barely walk, and just managed to collapse on the bed. They would wake him up for his meeting.

As he drifted off, he thought of that night, again. What had he been thinking? All those things he'd done to Kris - what was that supposed to be about? Coercion, blackmail, that wasn't him! He remembered being angry and hurt, and wanting to lash out at someone. He wanted to hurt both Kris and Katy, but really, after that night, he was more miserable than ever. Oh, the sex had been amazing, and at first, the happy buzz of finally having all his fantasies about Kris fulfilled had carried him through the next few days.

But then he'd heard from someone else that Kris and Katy were separating, and he started feeling guilty about that. The final straw had been watching the stuff he had filmed that night - he suddenly saw himself as a person he didn't much like anymore. The incredible memories of being inside Kris and teaching him what pleasure they could have together were tainted by the thought of Kris feeling forced. Yes, Kris had come for him, had enjoyed every second. But that was just physiological, wasn't it? And he'd been trying to track Adam down ever since that night, but that was probably just to punch his face in for filming him without his knowledge or permission. Maybe he should let him.

~

Kris had been sitting outside Simon Fuller's office for half an hour now, but he felt it was probably his fault, because he'd come early. He didn't want to risk missing Adam, again. His publicist was looking at him strangely. Kris looked down, and realised he was playing nervously with the flash-drive again, a habit he'd picked up ever since he stopped wearing his wedding ring.

He'd started taking it with him everywhere, the flash-drive, that is. At first, he'd locked it in his safe. Then, one day, for no reason, he was _sure_ that someone would break into his house and steal it, though why they would go for a flash-drive rather than money or high-end electronics was anybody's guess. Still, he couldn't function anymore unless he knew it was with him at all times, and he couldn't wipe it, or destroy it.

He was so lost in thought, flipping the thing over and over, that he almost didn't realise when the door to the office opened, and out walked . . . Adam. Fuck! This wasn't fair, he'd planned everything so carefully! Adam looked at him, and nodded, non-committally. Suddenly Kris'd had enough. He got up, grabbed Adam's sleeve, and dragged towards the door to the corridor, and pushing him through the doorway. He deliberately ignored his frantic manager and directed a look at a bemused Simon Fuller, mouthing, _One minute! Just one minute, ok?_

Adam let himself be dragged into the corridor, because he was apparently fascinated by the flash-drive, which Kris was still holding. He probably thought Kris was losing his mind, but he didn't care, as long as Adam heard him out.

"Yes!" He waved it in front of Adam's face.

"You'll listen to me now!"

Adam seemed both puzzled and faintly amused, as if that wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"I need to talk to you-", Adam opened his mouth, and Kris continued, "Yes, I know we're talking _now_. I need a private conversation, where we won't be interrupted. I think you owe me that much."

Adam blushed at this last comment.

"Ok, ok."

He got out his phone and started texting.

"This is my address. Be there in," he looked at his watch, "two hours, and we'll talk."

Kris heard the chime as he got the text, and read the address. By the time he looked up, Adam was already starting to walk away. He grabbed Adam's arm, in sudden panic.

"You'll be there, right? Please, Adam." Adam looked puzzled, again.

"Of course, ba- Kris. I said I would."

Kris felt a sudden surge of love for Adam, and wanted to tell him he could call him anything he liked, but decided he didn't want to scare Adam off. He'd already planned what would happen next, and did not want to mess things up before he'd had a chance to put the whole thing into action.

He went back to the office, reluctantly. His publicist and manager looked furious, and Simon just looked faintly amused. His manager had just started a sentence with "So, what are we doing about this Idol thing . . .", when Simon interrupted.

"I think this 'Idol thing', as you've called it, is going to be the least of your problems as regards Kris's public image. I mean, the divorce was bad enough . . . "

He let the words trail off, and studied Kris intently. Kris felt himself start to blush, and saw with his peripheral vision that his management team had identical looks of horror on their faces. What was the best way of pulling off a band-aid? Kris had always belonged to the one-quick-rip school.

"Look, doin' guys hasn't hurt Adam's sales any-"

They both started shouting at the same time, but Kris wasn't interested in what they were saying, and Fuller just leaned back, smirking. Kris got the impression that Simon finally found him interesting.

Two hours later, Kris was outside the door of a large, glass-fronted house, ringing the bell. He could see through the door, and Adam was coming to open it. He didn't speak to Kris, just let him in, and walked towards the sitting room- where there were another three people sitting around the table, clearly in the middle of some planning session. Adam's management team, and another person . . . Kris recognised Cassidy, who had some costume sketches open on the table. Kris had never been so close to losing his temper in his life. He turned to Adam, and his fury must have shown on his face, because Adam's eyes widened in shock. Kris's thoughts went into overdrive. Did he think I wanted to beat him up, or what? What the fuck is going on?

Kris spoke through gritted teeth, trying desperately to keep his feelings under control.

"Adam, get rid of them. Right now. Or I swear . . ." He didn't know how he was going to finish that sentence - his anger suddenly drained away, and he found himself closer to tears than rage. Sometimes Adam _really_ didn't get it.

"I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom." If I find it, his brain continued. This fucking place is enormous.

He stalked away, too furious to even contemplate saying hello to Cassidy - he'd apologise another time. Behind him he could hear Adam giving a hushed, abbreviated explanation, but a last glimpse showed him that Cassidy had probably started packing his things away as soon as Kris had walked in. Cassidy saw him looking and gave him a half-smile and a hidden thumbs-up - Kris blushed and smiled back. So, that was one of Adam's friends he had on his side.

After trying a few doors he entered what looked like the master bedroom - there was a huge bed, wall to wall walk-in closets, and an assortment of Adam's clothes on the floor. Even Adam's messiness was endearing to him now, he thought as he smiled, and shook his head. There was a pair of large and ornate chairs on either sides of the bed. He pulled one of them to the centre of the room, and put his backpack on the floor next to it, just in time. Adam opened the door, and walked in, his face full of questions.

"Look, Kris, are you having some kind of breakdown? Because this is weird-"

"Sit down."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. Sit. Down."

Adam, sat down, surprised at Kris's tone, and not a little apprehensive.

"Look, I'm sorry about the whole. What we. What I. I mean, I'm not sorry we had sex, but I feel bad about . . ."

Kris let Adam ramble on while he reached into his bag and pulled out a set of padded handcuffs - not the same ones from that night, of course, but a similar pair. Adam trailed off, and stared at him, stunned.

"Take off your shirt."

Adam was still staring at the handcuffs. He took off his shirt without argument.

"Put your hands out."

Adam obeyed, and Kris fastened the cuffs on his wrists. Adam sat there, with his cuffed hands in his lap. The look of faint puzzlement on his face turned into shock when Kris started unbuttoning his shirt. He gaped in surprise as Kris took all of his clothes off, and was too stunned to protest when Kris ordered him to lift his arms. So all I had to do was get cuffs on you and you would let me order you around, he couldn't help thinking. Adam's eyes widened even further when Kris climbed into his lap and settled there, pulling Adam's arms down so that his hands rested on the small of Kris's back.

"Comfy?"

Adam finally found his voice.

"What are you _doing_?"

His voice nearly cracked on the final word. Kris was almost too hypnotized by his closeness to Adam after those long weeks of separation to answer - the warmth of his body, the feeling of Adam's bare skin against his own, the familiar smell of him. He just wanted to luxuriate in all those sensations, but Adam was starting to put up his walls again, and that couldn't happen.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm giving you an ultimatum - we get together, or else." He smiled sweetly, and squirmed happily on Adam's lap, noting with satisfaction that Adam was _extremely_ glad to see him.

"Or else what?"

Adam was getting flushed, and his eyes were hooded. Kris had started stroking his chest, and under the waistband of his pants, and Adam obviously wanted to grab his hands, but couldn't.

"Kris? Kris!" Kris looked up, flushed himself - he'd moved on to opening Adam's jeans and stroking his cock.

"Or else, whatever, I give TMZ our sextape, how about that? Or I put it online - how long do you think it will take people to recognize us?"

He started teasing Adam's nipples, and gave one, then the other, a little bite, and then a lick, to soothe it. Adam gasped, and managed to stutter, "But, but you're in the tape too- ow!" Kris lifted his head, and sighed.

"Adam, when are you going to get it? Haven't I made it clear enough? I love you." This silenced Adam, and Kris managed to get all of Adam's cock out of his jeans, and started stroking him, gently.

"What about Katy?" Kris rolled his eyes. "We're getting divorced, you know that. We've been separated for a while, even before our little stay at the Bel-Air. Which I would have told you, if you'd given me the chance to speak before stuffing your dick in my mouth."

He followed the last with a cheeky smile, then bent his head and with some stretching and manoeuvring managed to lick the tip of Adam's cock. Adam yelled, thrusting his hips upward involuntarily. Kris'd had a long time to work out all the things he wanted to do to Adam once he got his hands on him - those were some long lonely nights, with just the video as cold comfort. He looked up, and Adam still looked doubtful.

"What makes you think I lo- that I still want you?"

Adam was trying to sound cruel and cold here, but to Kris he just sounded afraid and hopeful. Kris sighed, and started dropping little kisses over Adam's face, using them as punctuation for his words.

"You . . . could have left me at the hotel, naked and cuffed to the bed, covered in come. Instead, you left me clothes, shoes, my phone . . . "

After saying the last he kissed Adam's closed mouth, and fastened his teeth gently around Adam's lower lip.

"Mmm." He wanted to say how long he'd been dreaming about Adam's lips, about joining up the freckles with his tongue, but didn't know how to get the words out without sounding weird. So he just licked his way into Adam's mouth, and whispered, "I've wanted . . . ", and couldn't continue.

"Yeah?"

Adam sounded dazed, but was smiling, his mouth opening and finally, finally, kissing him back. Figures that'd be the last thing we did, Kris thought.

Kris was happily losing himself in the hot wet sensation of kissing Adam, when he felt Adam's hands grabbing his ass, and lifting him. Adam got up, still holding on to his ass, and Kris had just managed to wrap his legs round Adam's waist when Adam walked them over to the bed, still kissing him. They fell sideways, laughing, and Adam started nipping at his neck, alternating the little bites with kisses along his jawline. Adam broke it off, suddenly.

"You know I love you, right? I've always loved you, I never meant to hurt you . . ."

Kris cut him off with another kiss, and started pulling Adam's jeans down further, but Adam wasn't being very helpful, what with grabbing his ass and brushing teasing fingers over his hole.

Something else occurred to him, and he pulled back suddenly.

"Adam, I didn't know about the win before, you've gotta believe me – they told me afterwards but I had no idea. I'm so sorry, I never wanted it that way . . ."

Adam's hands were still cuffed, but he managed to shut Kris up by simply pulling their hips together and rubbing his cock against Kris's.

"You think that matters to me? And it was so close, who's to say you didn't win and whoever it was just tried to mess with your head, and make you more grateful to the corporations or something? Oh, who cares! You know, if you uncuff me I can make it worth your while – one of the advantages of having big hands!"

Adam licked his lips and looked through his eyelashes at Kris, smirking.

Kris burst out laughing. "Oh no, the eye-fucking is _not_ gonna work today. Besides, _it's a good look for you._ " Adam sputtered with laughter, and buried his head in Kris's chest.

"I was such an asshole to you; when I watched that video again I just . . . cringed."

"Oh, I don't know. It was pretty hot." Adam raised his eyebrows. Kris blushed and snuggled closer. "I may have watched it . . . more than once."

"And you thought it was hot?" Adam's eyes were darkening, the look in them getting more intense by the second.

"Oh yeah. Specially the . . . the . . . when you . . ." Kris's face was on fire, while Adam's smile was growing bigger by the second.

"Oh, you are _so_ perfect. And you're mine."

Adam didn't give him a chance to answer, so Kris just managed to get out a muffled agreement before Adam plunged into his mouth again, hot and wet and slick. His hands never stopped, either: stroking his ass, pulling his hips closer so they could rub against each other.

Kris was sweating now, and incredibly close. Soon he shuddered and came, gasping into Adam's mouth. They didn't stop kissing, though. Kris felt like he could go on forever.

 

The next morning, Adam, finally, reluctantly, said, "I think we should answer one of our phones, baby."

Kris, who was playing connect the dots with the freckles on Adam's chest, looked sulky.

"Don't wanna. You should have heard my management yesterday. Going on about losing the South, and the Bible Belt, and whatever." Adam pulled back, shocked.

"They know?"

Kris shrugged. "Simon guessed. He didn't seem to care. _I_ don't care." He saw Adam's mouth open to object, and gave him a quick kiss before he continued. "I'm not married anymore, and the kind of Christian who thinks being gay or bisexual is a sin is not the kind of Christian I give a shit about. God created me in His image, and He loves me that way. And He loves you too." He was about to go back to choosing his favourite freckle, when he noticed that Adam was looking at him quizzically.

"Since when do you _talk_ , Allen?" Kris started trying to tickle him, and Adam giggled, trying to fend him off. "Planning on coming out with that speech?"

"Why not?" The way Kris felt today, he thought he could climb mountains, and . . . and . . . weather hurricanes, and all that horseshit.

"I'll go on _Ellen_. She loves us, and then I'll sing a special song to show my _feelings_. I'll serenade you on national tv."

Adam started tickling _him_ , and Kris continued, through gasps of laughter.

"Oh, oh, I already know what I'll sing. I'll make it _acoustic_. Here's a special preview just for-"

Adam stopped tickling him and briefly switched his attention to Kris's dick, which had started showing some interest. Kris gasped, and managed to get the words out anyway.

" _I want your ugly, I want your disease, I want your everything as long as it's free, I want your love_ -"

"Oh, now you're getting it!"

Kris managed to wriggle away from the tickling fingers, climbed on top of Adam, pinning his arms down, and started kissing him again.

"I'm your freak bitch, baby", he murmured against Adam's lips, and Adam, through gasps of laughter, answered, "It's _free_! Free bitch, baby!"

"Mmm. I'm that, too," Kris murmured, silencing him with a deep kiss, and he could feel Adam smiling as he cradled the back of his head with one hand, and kissed him back.


End file.
